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Tessa found Ferremor standing under the moonflower arch and smiled, holding out one of the two steaming ceramic mugs she carried. He took it, watching her in his quiet, formal, and sorrowful way. Tessa recognized his pain, and had often wished she had the power to heal his heart. Every time they'd spoken over the last fourteen months, though, he had withdrawn whenever she tried to connect with him.
"Hot cider, to battle the chill of the approaching winter," she explained, turning to admire the beautiful night blossoms. Though snow rarely fell in the southern Kingdom of Cibsel, many of her lovely flowers couldn't survive the long nights. She prayed that this year, the moonflowers would stay blooming for her, for them.
He mumbled a thank you and sipped from the mug. "How do you always seem to know where I am?"
"On full moons after midnight, you're always here in the gardens." She leaned against the lattice archway cushioned with hearty vines and drank from her mug, watching him through her lashes.
"And on the other nights?"
"The hours before dawn, my father does not send you out, so I simply look until I find you." She smiled at his embarrassed frown. "Why do you work for my father, Ferremor?" Tessa loved using his name, undoubtedly more than she should. She found herself whispering it before she closed her eyes at night, and often it was the first word on her lips in the morning. There was nothing about him that she did not find beautiful, even his sadness.
"He is a good man, and he pays a fair wage," was Ferremor's simple reply.
"No, I mean, why do you allow yourself to take a position so below your skills? You are powerful, very much so," she insisted. "Why do you live in the servants' quarters of a lord as low in the social rankings as my father?"
Ferremor started walking, a good sign. Tessa understood his gait to mean he might talk a little longer tonight before excusing himself. "I am content," he responded, quietly.
"But not happy." Tessa waved off the beginning of his protest. "Do not deny it, Ferremor. I can see your unhappiness. Do you have no ambition? No wish to expand your life?"
"Why?"
Tessa laughed at his quiet question. "You want for nothing more?"
"I want for nothing. I am clothed, well fed, and earn a wage possible to donate a goodly amount to the home of Headmaster Doland."
"That is sad, Ferremor," she quietly lamented. "You have no dreams, no wishes, no aspirations. To simply live. It seems very sad to me, very lonely."
Ferremor shrugged. "Perhaps to you," he replied, somberly. "I am content."
"You said that." They stopped by her mother's fountain, and Tessa smiled down at their dancing reflections. "Alex must have been a woman of some wonder, to have earned such a deep love from you that you would mourn her so." Ferremor turned away, abandoning Tessa by the water's edge, but not leaving entirely. When he didn't speak, Tessa closed her eyes and fought the urge to go to him. For what she had to say, he would want his distance. "Sometimes I lay awake in the early morning hours and wish that you cared for me in the same way as you did for her."
Ferremor turned abruptly, staring at her, surprised. "Don't—"
"I wonder if," she cut in quickly. "With time and patience, you will come to feel the same as I do. That you will want the closeness and affection I yearn for from you." She couldn't look at him, so afraid was she of what expression he might wear. Would he simply leave without a word, as he had often done before at the mere mention of Alex? After a minute, she forced herself to turn around and face him. He was staring at the cider in his hands, his brow drawn and his expression stricken. For a moment she was amazed by his dark, expressive features and startling blue eyes.
"I wish you wouldn't say such things," he whispered hoarsely.
Tessa left her mug at the fountain and went to him, looking up into his eyes. "Do you wish that because it is unwelcomed, or because it is welcomed?" He looked away, and she quickly clasped her hands around his, feeling the warmth of the cider even through his cold fingers. "Because if it is the latter, I refuse!"
She saw the surprise at her passion in his gaze, but she would not let him leave until she had finished what she'd set herself to say tonight. "Can you not see how deeply I love you? Can you not read the longing and desperate hope in my eyes, hear it in my voice? Ferremor, if you care for me, please tell me so! Please do not leave me wondering. Do not leave me in the darkness of doubt that I have dwelled in for months."
Ferremor closed his eyes, flinching away from her. "Do not do this. Your father—"
"I love him," she stated, lifting her chin. "But I would leave him behind in an instant to be with you."
Ferremor stared at her in disbelief. "You don't know what you're saying. You don't even know me."
"I know you are gentle, kind, full of love and life. I know you've loved so deeply that you ran without hesitation into a burning building. I know that you risked your life to save those children, though your heart was broken. I know that you live for them, those five orphans you rescued from the fire, though every night you struggle to open your eyes and live in this world alone." She leaned forward, her voice deep with hope and pleading. "I look into your eyes, and I know that that you are hurt terribly. I can bring love into your life, again!"
Ferremor stepped quickly away, pulling his hands from hers. "Stop this," he pleaded, breathlessly. She could see the flush in his cheeks, hear the crack in his voice. She saw the tremble of his hands in the surface of the cider.
She followed, putting herself in front of him again. If he left now, he could spend the rest of his time at the manor avoiding her. "You cannot go until you answer my question. I cannot bear lying awake another night wondering, wishing in vain. I must know!"
Ferremor frowned, refusing to meet her gaze. "And if I told you that I feel nothing? Would you move on and leave this infatuation behind you?"
Tessa gasped, stepping quickly back. "Infatuation?" Tears sprang to her eyes, and she lifted her chin, slapping him smartly. He blinked in surprise, but did not withdraw.
"You can scorn me if you wish, but do not question my love, and cheapen it with that word." She swallowed back the hurt. "You are the one fooling yourself, not me!" She spun around and fled, sobbing into her hands. His words had hurt, but her tears were truly for the moment lost. She could not bear to think of it, but it came to her mind nonetheless. What if after this night, he closed his heart to her forever?